


Bug Bite

by soongtypeprincess



Series: Married Coppers [3]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Foreplay, Gay Parents, Hospitals, Injury, Kid Fic, M/M, Nightmares, Polyamory, Sam!Whump, Threesomes F/M/M (mentioned), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:50:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: “Ruddy good thing he was a bad shot,” Gene said. “That bullet could’ve gone straight through your head.”





	1. Bug Bite

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, this fic is a rollercoaster. Ruthie is four years-old in this because I like writing her at this age.
> 
> I DO NOT OWN THE CANON LIFE ON MARS CHARACTERS!!

_“Annie, look out!”_

_“Sam, no!”_

_The gun fires with a loud crack._

_“Tyler!!”_

\-------------------------

Sam awoke to the feeling of something wrapped around his arm, slowly squeezing him. He blinked through the bright lights above him and saw a woman standing over him in a white cap and blue frock. He tried to open his eyes but the light was painful, and whenever he tried to gauge his surroundings the room would spin. The pounding in his head made him grunt in pain and the blood pressure cuff grew tighter until a loud hissing noise dissipated beside him and the pressure disappeared.

“What…” he murmured, “where am…oh God where I am? What’s happened?”

“You’re back from over the rainbow, Dorothy,” replied a familiar voice.

“Guv?”

“No, it’s Shirley Temple,” Gene quipped as he stepped closer, a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee in his hand.

Sam moved quickly to sit up, but Gene put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy now, Tyler. You’ve had a bit of a knock.”

“Oh, God…” Sam groaned as he took his DCI’s advice and carefully sat upright. The nurse adjusted the bed so that he could sit and she stuffed an extra pillow behind him for his head. “Bloody hell, my leg…”

“Please take it easy, Inspector,” the nurse told him. “You’ve got a slight concussion and you’ve been in and out of consciousness for a while now. Try not to fall asleep again until you’re cleared by the doctor.”

“It’s freezing in here,” Sam said, keeping his eyes closed from the lights. “Could we dim these, too, please?” he motioned upward at the brightness.

“Anything else, Cleopatra?” Gene sneered. “She’s got other patients to tend to besides your spoiled arse.”

The nurse only grinned and dimmed the lights. Then, she brought the duvet up around his chest. “Better, love?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you, I’m sorry,” Sam said.

“No problem, sir. Your blood pressure is quite low right now; that could be why you’re chilled. You’ve lost a lot of blood, as well.”

“I…what?” He lifted the bed sheet and saw thick bandages on his right thigh. He squinted at the small blood stain that had seeped through, and he swallowed hard. The searing pain in his head seemed to make the wound in his leg feel like a dull bruise.

He couldn’t remember the gun shot. All he remembered was facing Clarkson who had his gun raised to the head of a grocery clerk. He was a former employee who had been fired, accused of stealing money when he would balance the tills after closing hours. Clarkson had been working to support his pregnant girlfriend, so when he was fired he went off the edge and held hostage the late-night shoppers along with his former manager.

Sam had tried talking to him, to lower the gun and that they could arrange for a short sentence and see that his girlfriend and child were taken care of, but Clarkson wouldn’t listen. There had been a sudden move from Annie behind Sam and Clarkson aimed his gun at her. Sam instantly jumped in the line of fire, he heard a loud bang, and then everything was suddenly dark.

“Ruddy good thing he was a bad shot,” Gene said. “That bullet could’ve gone straight through your head.” He took a sip of his coffee. "Mind you, it did knock you back a bit. You went down like a load of bricks."

Sam carefully lifted his arm and felt the back of his head. He hissed in pain as he felt the stitches that closed his split skin.

"You'll get X-rays in the morning, Inspector," the nurse assured him.

"I wouldn't worry too much about your skull, Tyler," Gene said. "Everyone knows you're thick-headed."

The nurse cleared her throat. “I’ll be back in two hours to check your vitals.”

“Thanks, love,” Gene said as she left the room.

“I thought I was dreaming," Sam said and then suddenly gasped. “Annie!”

“She’s fine,” Gene replied. “Right as rain, unscathed. Thanks to you.” He sipped his coffee again. “We got the bastard, in case you’re wondering.”

Sam looked at Gene. “And you? Are you alright?”

“Oh, _now_ I cross your mind.”

“Gene, darling, please,” Sam groaned.

It was the ‘darling’ that caught Gene off guard. They rarely used terms of endearment like that, unless it was in the throes of unbridled lovemaking, but in this case, he knew that Sam was genuinely concerned with him, and not just making pleasantries.

Gene sat on the bed and took Sam’s hand. “I’m alright, yeah,” he whispered. “Now that you’re awake.”

Sam gave him a small smile and closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of Gene’s palm. He felt Gene lean over to the bedside table to put down his coffee cup, and then he reached into the inside pocket of his camel coat to retrieve his flask.

He let go of Sam’s hand and opened the flask, taking a sharp tug from it. He exhaled hard after swallowing the stinging liquid and handed the flask to Sam.

Sam smirked. “I don’t think that’s wise for me, with a concussion and all.”

Gene huffed. “You’ll step in front of bullets for a plod, but you won’t take a tiny nip of single malt because your head hurts?” He watched Sam roll his eyes and shook his head. “Suit yourself, James Bond.”

He took another swig and closed the flask, securing it once again inside his coat.

“Who’s got Ruthie?” Sam asked.

Gene smiled. “She’s with me mum. Happy as a lark and getting stuffed with sweets.”

“I wish Gwendolyn wouldn’t give her so much sugar,” Sam said.

“She’s a Granny,” Gene said, “It’s what they do. And if I try to stop her, she’ll just harp on me again about how long it took me to give her a grandchild to stuff with sweets.” Sam giggled as Gene continued, “Besides, they’re the only sweets she gets since we have deprived our entire home of sugar, ta very much to you.”

“I let you keep your Garibaldi’s,” Sam protested.

Gene pursed his lips. “Biscuits are for tea; they don’t count.”

Sam laughed, but had to stop short due to the ache in his head. “Ow…oh wow,” Sam sighed. “What’s the time?”

Gene checked his watch. “Half past midnight,” he said. “I’d better go get her. Take her off _Gwendolyn’s_ hands.” He sarcastically enunciated his mother’s name as he looked at Sam. “You know you can call her Mum, Samuel.”

“I do call her that!” Sam declared. “I just happen to like her name—you know what, I’m not going to do this. I’ve just been shot, the room is spinning, and here you are griping to me that I’m too fucking particular about what I call your mother and how balanced our daughter’s diet should be! Do you have any clue what I put up every single—“

His tirade was interrupted by Gene pressing his lips against his, and Sam moaned softly as he leaned further back into the pillow. He felt Gene’s hand rest lightly on his chest and Sam reached up and stroked his cheek. Gene pulled away and looked into his dark eyes. “Yes,” he said, “yes I do.” He kissed Sam’s forehead and rose up from the bed. “I’ll bring our baby in the morning.”

\------------------

_“Clarkson, let’s talk. We can arrange for a light sentence and Madeline will be taken care of.”_

_“Fuck you, bloody coppers! You have no idea what I’ve been throu—oi, you bitch!”_

_“Annie, look out!”_

_“Sam, no!”_

_The gun fires with a loud crack._

_“Tyler!!”_

_Another gun fires._

_“He’s down!”_

_The light disappears and the darkness comes._

_Annie holds his bleeding head. “Sam, oh my God!”_

_Two strong hands lift him up and cradle him. “Tyler, you fucking bastard, you can’t die on me!”_

_The blood trickles over his temple and into his ear._

_“Sam, please!”_

_Tears fall from above onto his cold cheeks. His eyes are open but he sees nothing. His mouth is open but he cannot speak._

_“SAM!!” The voice echoes all around them but still he cannot answer it._

_Gene pulls him closer and guides his lifeless arm around his neck but he is not able to embrace him the way Gene wants._

_Gene presses his face into the crook of his neck, whispering to him, but he hears nothing._

_“Sam, don’t go, come back to me…please, baby, we’re a family…”_

_Annie tries to stand but falters and Ray catches her. She buries her face in his chest and emits a shriek._

_His body is now being rocked slowly and Gene’s voice returns._

_“Please, Sam…I can’t…I can’t make it without you…”_

_He is now in a uniform, lying prone and cold in a box. His child is crying and clinging to Gene’s leg._

_The box lowers into the deep darkness and his child runs to him. “No!”_

_Gene grabs her by the waist and lifts her onto his hip. “No! I want my Daddy! Papa, don’t let them put Daddy away!”_

_The vicar tosses dirt onto the box as it continues to lower into the ground. His child struggles to release herself from Gene’s hold._

_“Stop it! Bring him back! It’s too dark down there! Papa, help him!!”_

_The box drops deeper into the abyss, but his child’s cries grow louder._

_“Daddyyyyyy…”_

\--------------------------

A shrill noise followed Sam out of his dream. He was shaking and sweating and the loud ringing of the telephone next to his bed made his head vibrate with more pain.

His cheeks were wet with tears, but he quickly picked up the receiver and silenced the noise.

“Hullo?” he panted.

“Evening, Gladys,” came Gene’s voice in his ear.

Sam couldn’t stop the sob that came from his chest. He covered his mouth and heaved desperate moans into his palm. The tears flowed freely down his cheeks and onto the duvet.

There was silence on the other end of the call and before Sam could think that he was still in his dream, Gene’s voice came back, saying, “What’s going on?” He waited for Sam to catch his breath. “Sammy?”

Sam grinned and exhaled as he leaned back into his pillows. “I’m okay, Guv,” he said. “It was…oh, God, it was a horrible dream. The bullet caught me in the head; there was so much blood…” He inhaled sharply and covered his eyes as he choked, “And you and Ruthie were alone! And I was in the ground!”

“Samuel.” Gene soft tone held a slight tremor. “You’re alive. This isn’t a dream. This is real. You’re in a hospital and you’re alive. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you leave us alone, so calm down.”

Most would judge Gene’s words to be harsh in nature, but Sam knew him better than anyone. It was the type of tone he needed; it worked every time, and Sam took another deep breath and wiped his eyes.

“I always think the worst, don’t I, Guv?” he sighed.

“For once, we’re in agreement,” Gene said. “Are you better?”

Sam sniffed. “Getting there.”

“Good, because I’m calling for a favor.”

Sam wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s almost a quarter to two in the morning and I have a little girl here who refuses to go back to sleep. I think she needs a good talking to.”

Sam laughed as he listened to the noise of the receiver being passed from Gene to their daughter.

“Daddy?” she asked.

Her sweet voice made his eyes well up with tears again, but he sniffed them back. “Why, hello, baby girl,” he greeted her. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I went to sleep at Granny’s. But when I waked up, you weren’t here.”

“I’m in hospital, love.”

“Papa says you have a boo-boo.”

Sam grinned. “Yeah, baby. A bad one.”

“Papa says a big, mean bug bit you.”

He laughed again. “Oh, did he?”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes, it did. But I’ll be fine.”

He heard Gene mumbling in the background and Ruthie giggled. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to sing you a song I learned today. In school.”

“Take it away, then, baby.”

Ruthie giggled and took a few moments to compose herself. He could hear Gene giggling, too, giving her words of encouragement. “Go on, love,” Gene said.

“Um…okay,” Ruthie said, and Sam could tell that she was smiling big. “Um…ready, Daddy?”

Sam was now giggling. “Ready as ever.”

“Okay, um…” Ruthie made a show of clearing her throat and then she sang:

“A peanut sat, on a railroad track,  
His heart was all a’flutter,  
Then down the line came number nine,  
TOOT TOOT  
Peanut butter.”

Sam threw back his head and gave out a hearty laugh and he could hear Gene’s boisterous guffaw, too. Ruthie was also laughing with delight, proud of herself for making them feel better.

“Oh, you silly goose,” Sam told her, wiping tears of joy from his eyes now. “That was…wow, baby, that was a good one. Good job!”

“Did you really like it?” she asked.

“Yes, darling, I did.”

They all took a moment to gather themselves and then Ruthie asked, “Can I come visit you, Daddy?”

“Yes, of course,” Sam said, “but in the morning.”

“It is morning!”

“Ruthie, you need to go to bed.”

“But I want to see you,” her voice suddenly whined.

“Papa will bring you in the morning, love.”

“But…but what if the big, mean bug comes to bite _me_?”

Sam licked his lips and closed his eyes. “Sweetheart…”

He then heard Gene’s voice soothe her. “The bug won’t come here, Mouse.”

Sam nodded. “Listen to Papa. The mean bug is gone.”

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Papa caught him,” he assured her. “And locked him away.”

“Coppers catch bugs?”

Sam and Gene giggled again. “Only the bad ones,” Sam said. “We catch them and we lock them in a cage.”

“Sometimes we stamp them a bit,” Gene said.

“Oh, Guv,” Sam scolded, but it was Ruthie’s laugh he heard. “Darling, do you promise to go to sleep if you stay in bed with Papa?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“Tell him I said it was okay.”

He heard her tell Gene what he told her. “Of course, Mousey-girl. But you have to promise to go right to sleep,” he said.

“Daddy, Papa said yeah.”

Sam smiled. “Good girl. Now, go to sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay, I love you, Daddy!”

His eyes burned with fresh tears at the sound of her voice. “I love you, too. Now, night night.”

The receiver was passed back to Gene, who said sharply, “Stop crying, you girl.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh again. “Thanks, Guv.”

“And no more bloody dreams,” Gene demanded. “I need you to heal and not just because I need you at the station.”

“So you _are_ saying that you need me.”

“I’m not the only one who does,” Gene immediately replied.

Sam smirked. “I’ll try my best.”

“You know what?”

“What?” Sam sighed.

“I’ve made her sing that song three times now and it gets funnier every time.”

“Certainly made me feel better.”

“Oh, and uh, I broke one of your rules and brought a lemon pie into the house.”

“Where did you get a lemon pie?”

“Your good mate _Gwendolyn_ made it,” Gene said. “She forced me to bring it.”

“A whole pie?” Sam said. “Yes, I’m sure she threatened to break your legs—wait, is that why Ruthie is still awake? Did you give her pie after you brought her home?”

Silence answered him. “Gene?” Sam said.

Gene cleared his throat. “Well…we may have eaten…just a little bit.”

“What’s a little bit?”

“Well, it wasn’t much…a slice, maybe?”

“Is she lying down at least?”

Silence again and then Gene said, “Not really. She’s sort of jumping on the mattress—oh, now she’s spinning in circles.”

“Oh, Gene…”

“What? At least she’s on the bed!”

Sam sighed. “Well, then…good luck. I’m going to lie here…in my quiet room…all by myself.”

“I hope you choke on a thermometer.”

“Love you, too,” Sam said, smiling as he hung up the phone.


	2. Dish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie comes to lend a helping hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add a couple of more chapters to this fic, so please enjoy!
> 
> The Wind in Willows is a book by Kenneth Grahame.
> 
> Therefore, I do not own any part of the book nor do I own the canon Life of Mars characters.

Gene sipped from the old china teacup that was part of his mother’s many collections. He tried his best to have tea with her every week. Ever since the birth of Ruthie, and Gwendolyn’s new role as a granny, he began to see his mother in a way he had never seen when he was younger. She had always invited him for tea, but he always said he was too busy, which was partially true, being a DCI.

Perhaps the other half of the truth was that being around her brought up hard memories of his childhood. However, now that he had a child, there seemed to be a rebirth of his mum, a kind of new energy about her. She never did get to be the doting mother with her own children, due to the patriarchal circumstances of her home life, but now she had Ruthie and a son-in-law, both of whom she adored to no end. She was happy, as Gene had never seen in his lifetime. Her happiness was like a light that drew him back to her.

“I was in the attic,” she told him, “looking through you and your brother’s old things. I thought I could find some sort of hand-me-down for my little Ruth.”

Gene had smirked at the mention of his brother. Though his death had occurred many years ago, the wound in Gene’s heart was fresh. They never talked about him much when they were together; the wound was still open for her, as well.

“Don’t think me old jumpers would fit her, Mum,” he quipped.

Gwendolyn chuckled. “You’re right there. Biggest baby on the street, you were.”

Gene rolled his eyes, but his smile was there, too. He could hear the faint note of pride in her declaration.

“No,” she continued, “I found this book. _The Wind in the Willows_. Do you remember it?”

He took it from her and ran his fingers over the velvet cover. Of course he remembered it. His mother read it to him and Stu every night, and when the old man was off on another drunken spree, Stu would pull Gene into their closet with a torch, where he would read to him from their beloved book to try to distract him. Their mother never knew this.

Gene opened the aged tome. “It’s terribly old,” he said.

“It was old when I got it,” she told him. “Anyway, take it to Ruthie. Maybe she’ll like it, too. Another cuppa, dear?”

“Oh, no thanks, Mum,” Gene declined, with a small degree of guilt for having to dash. “I’ve got preschool duty.” That usually meant that it was his turn to retrieve Ruthie from school. He and Sam took it in turns and if either one of them couldn’t make their turn, it was usually Annie’s go.

That particular teatime was last week, before Sam’s injury. Tonight was Sam’s second night in hospital and after their supper, Gene had given Ruthie her bath and put her in her pajamas. They watched a bit of television; in fact, more than the appropriate time Sam would have allowed, but Gene had sensed gloominess from his daughter as they had sat down to eat. A bit of extra telly wouldn’t hurt her.

After television, it was off for teeth brushing and bedtime. He had been reading to her from his old book the past couple of nights, and now Ruthie was snuggled close to him as she squeezed Bertram to her chest. The stuffed lion was wearing his own set of striped pajamas that Granny had made for him.

They were lying in her bed, Gene’s feet surpassing the end of its small frame, and he read from the fourth chapter, although by the middle of the second page, he could sense that Ruthie was losing interest.

“The Badger,” he read, “who wore a long dressing-gown, and whose slippers were indeed very down at heel, carried a flat candlestick in his paw and had probably been on his way to bed when their summons sounded. He looked—“

He stopped reading when he felt Ruthie shift onto her side, face away from him, and cover her head with the duvet. Gene cleared his throat and continued, “He looked kindly down on them and patted both their heads. ‘This is not the sort of night,’” Gene read in a deep throaty tone, “’for small animals to be out.’” He paused again and pulled back the duvet to look at his daughter, who hadn’t stirred. She usually loved when he would do all the voices (his Toad voice was spot on, he thought).

Gene closed the book and set it on her night stand. He reached down and stroked her hair. “Are you alright, baby?” he asked in a soft voice.

She didn’t say anything. Only shook her head.

“Missin’ Daddy, are we?”

“Yeah…” she muttered.

“He’ll be home soon, Mouse,” he assured her. “Two days’ time, he’ll be here. You’ll see.”

This news got her moving and she sat up onto her knees and looked up at him. “Will he be better?”

Gene nodded. “A bit better, yeah. He’ll have bandages though. It was a, uh…a deep bite. So you’ll have to tread lightly around him, okay? No sitting on his lap for a while, either.”

“Will he have to stay in bed?”

“No way,” Gene told her, with a grin. “He won’t want to.” He said this with confidence, knowing how stubborn his Sam was. He knew he would be eager to go back to work as soon as possible, but his gammy leg would hinder him greatly.

He watched Ruthie as she pouted and drooped her head, her chin resting on Bertram’s Bobby helmet.

Gene sighed. “Do you want to keep reading?”

“No,” she said drearily as she lay down once more. “I’m sleepy now.”

Gene’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he didn’t argue. This was turning out to be the easiest bedtime, although he wished it was under better circumstances.

The next evening, there was an unexpected knock at the door.

Gene made Ruthie sit still on the sofa while he answered it. His hand hovered over the cricket bat by the entrance as he looked through the peephole. He sighed with relief as he opened the door.

Annie stood there with her purse and a big bag over her shoulder. She was also carrying a covered dish in her hands. She smiled. “Evenin’, Guv.”

“He sent you, didn’t he?” Gene immediately asked.

She huffed. “For your information,” she said, “I came here on my own accord.”

Gene’s face told her that he wasn’t convinced and she rolled her eyes. “Okay, it was partially on my own accord,” she admitted. “I visited him this morning and he wanted me to check on you and Ruthie. But I _had_ planned on coming over!”

Gene shook his head. “Alright, you may enter.”

“Ta very much,” Annie said. She crossed the threshold as Gene took her heavy bag as she carefully balanced the food dish.

Upon seeing Annie, Ruthie squealed with delight. “Annie!” she shouted as she hopped off the sofa and embraced one of her legs.

“Hallo, sweetpea!” Annie greeted her in the same high voice register. “Let me put the food away and I’ll give you a proper hug, okay?”

She set the bowl onto the kitchen counter and fulfilled her promise. She lifted Ruthie from the floor and they hugged so tightly.

Gene grinned at the sight as he passed them to inspect the dish. He lifted the tin foil from the top and took a deep whiff. “Lamb and rice,” he said, in an impressed tone. “Expecting the Queen, then?”

“Don’t tell me Sam’s never made lamb and rice!” Annie exclaimed as Ruthie, still in her arms, giggled in amusement.

“He claims we can’t afford lamb, but look at you,” he told her. “Proper Julia Child, you are.” He covered the dish again and turned to a cabinet to retrieve the plates. “Got half a bottle of red wine, too, if you don’t mind.”

“Wine? Not at all,” Annie said, as she set Ruthie down. They both went into the kitchen and Gene handed Ruthie their plates.

“She likes to set the table,” he explained to Annie. “Makes her feel like a big girl.”

“She is quite the big girl now,” Annie stated. “Seems like every time I see her, she’s sprouted a few inches.”

“You saw her two days ago.”

“Still, children do grow up.”

Gene watched Ruthie return and reach up to the silverware drawer. She was able to open it but could not reach inside, and Gene picked out three forks and handed them to her.

“A little too quickly, if you ask me,” he muttered as he observed Ruthie carefully laying a fork by each plate.

He opened another cupboard and pulled out two wine glasses. He handed these to Annie before retrieving Ruthie’s purple plastic cup for her milk.

Annie poured their wine, setting their glasses on the table where Ruthie patiently sat. “Did you wash up, little lady?” she asked her.

“Oh!” Ruthie exclaimed as she slid off her chair and ran upstairs to wash her hands in the lavatory.

Annie turned to Gene. “You, too, Guv.”

Gene pursed his lips at her, but he washed his hands in the sink. As he dried them, he approached her saying, “Were you planning to feed us of your own accord, as well?”

She cocked her head. “You’re welcome.”

He clicked his tongue. “Annie, come on, that’s…that’s not what I meant.”

Gene wiped his forehead and dragged his fingers into his hair before leaning against the sink, sighing deeply. Annie had noticed that, since Sam’s injury, their DCI maintained a faraway expression as he carried along with every day. It seemed the only time his mood would change was when it was time to pick up his daughter from school. His eyes were sometimes puffy later in the day, too, even though he was drinking cup after cup of coffee and tea.

“I had a feeling,” Annie said, “that there hasn’t been enough time for you to cook, what with having to look after Ruthie while Sam’s laid up.”

“I can take care of my daughter,” he said abruptly.

“Guv, I didn’t—“

“I know, Cartwright,” he walked away from the sink.

She picked up his wine glass and handed it to him. He took a sip and smacked his lips as he looked at her with tired eyes. “Just a bit peckish, is all.”

She smiled. “Well, let’s get some good food in your belly so you can concentrate.”

He furrowed his brow. “On what?”

“Your paperwork.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve got files in my bag,” she said. “Without Sam, your paperwork’s piling up.”

“I know. That’s why I come home at night,” he groaned. “To be far away from it. Now, you’ve brought it in me house.”

She sipped her wine and licked her lips. “Here’s the plan: we have supper, you do your work, and I take care of the washing up and I’ll keep Ruthie in her routine.”

“You will?” Gene asked, a bit stunned. “Cartwright, there’s no need.”

“It’s called lending a helping hand, Guv” Annie said. “You don’t have to do all this on your own. You and Sam always have me, yeah?”

He gave her another smirk. “Was this his idea?”

Annie giggled. “Well, remember I told you he wanted me to check on you? What he really said was that he wanted me to make sure, and I quote, that ‘Gene isn’t feeding our daughter toasted cheese sandwiches for every meal.’”

Gene rolled his eyes. “He’s mental, that lover of yours.”

“ _Your_ husband,” she grinned, “I can’t take full responsibility for him.” She took another sip of wine before raising herself onto her toes to plant a quick kiss on his chin.

The plan went as it should. Supper was eaten and as Annie cleared the table and washed the dishes, Gene pulled all the files from her bag and set them on the roll-top desk in the corner of the lounge. The file of papers for Sam’s incident was on top, but he placed that file at the bottom of the pile. He’d let Sam work on that one.

A couple of files were done by the time Annie had drawn a bath for Ruthie. Gene would pause in his work to listen to them giggling and carrying on.

Ruthie’s bond with Annie would become increasingly important as she got older, and Gene and Sam always agreed to let Annie babysit for a weekend so Ruthie can have girly time with her. She was, after all, her biological mother and an essential figure in her life. They never told Ruthie about the situation surrounding her birth, but there would be a time when she would start asking questions.

It didn’t worry Gene, and neither did it Sam. They had no reason to hide the truth. Annie had given them the most precious gift anyone could receive, and they were prepared for the moment when Ruthie would become curious. As it was, when Ruthie asked if she could stay at Annie’s flat, or when Annie offered to take her shopping, they never turned down their requests.

Loud splattering sounds suddenly came from upstairs and Gene looked up at the ceiling. “Oi, no splashing!” he shouted.

He heard more giggling and shook his head as he got back to his work.

After Ruthie was dried and clothed, Annie let her help with folding the laundry that had sat in the dryer since the day of Sam’s injury. She taught Ruthie the best way to fold towels, but Ruthie really loved the rolling of socks into a tight ball, which she would bounce off her head like a football. She and Annie would fall into another giggle fit as Annie did the same sock-football trick.

After the laundry was put away, Annie suggested that they should clear her toys from the floor in her bedroom, which Ruthie happily obliged, but not without showing her every new dolly her Granny gave her along with Bertram’s new clothes.

As Annie picked up Bertram to put on his pajamas, she noticed a small tear close to his tail. “Oh no, Ruthie,” she said. “Bertie’s got a cut.”

Ruthie gasped and dropped her Simon game and rushed over to Annie’s side. “No,” she whined.

“Don’t worry, love,” Annie said. “I can stitch him right up in a jiffy. Come on.”

The thumping of feet down the stairs made Gene turn away from his work, and he watched Annie dig into her purse to pull out a small kit.

“What’s happening?” Gene asked, turning in his chair.

“Minor surgery, Guv,” Annie replied as she threaded her needle.

He watched her sit on her knees on the floor with Ruthie observing her every move, her tiny hands on Annie’s shoulder. Annie’s knee-length skirt rested around her and she turned Bertram upside down in her lap and, with a few quick stitches, she tied off the thread and put away the needle and kit. “All fixed up!” she announced as she handed the lion to Ruthie. “Go put on his pajama bottoms and finish clearing your toys.”

“Okay,” Ruthie said, hugging Bertram. “Thank you, Annie!” She ran up the stairs, and Annie, still on the floor, watched her with a big smile.

“Did you say ‘clear your toys’?” Gene asked.

“I did,” Annie said, proudly, looking up at him.

“And she’s actually doing it?”

“She is.”

Gene threw his pen onto the desk. “We can’t get her to clean her room until we’ve had several debates on why she should. It’s like the House of Commons just to put away one doll!”

Annie laughed as she raised herself to her feet. Gene turned back to his paperwork and was about to pick up his pen when he felt slender fingers glide onto the back of his neck. The nails of said fingers gently scratched the skin and Gene sighed as chills fluttered through his shoulders. He put down the pen again.

“How’s it going, Guv?” Annie asked as her fingers pressed into the tense muscles of his neck.

Gene leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Could be better…” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Annie agreed. “Is my lover making you lose sleep?”

Gene huffed. “He does that when he’s not in hospital.” He heard Annie’s giggle as her fingernails traced up his neck and onto his scalp.

Her nails caressed his crown and scratched his temples. “Oh, bloody hell,” he groaned as he leaned his head back into her touch. She continued her impromptu therapy until Gene leaned forward and rested his head on his files with a resigned moan.

She stopped and put a hand on his back and rubbed between his shoulder blades. “Better now?”

He sighed as he lifted his head. “A little, yeah.”

Annie noticed his tone had changed. She knew he was tired and apparently troubled by Sam’s absence, which was no surprise.

When she had visited Sam that morning in the hospital, Sam was a bit worried, as well, which is why he had asked her to stop by.

“If you don’t mind,” Sam had said to her.

“Of course I don’t mind, love,” she told him. “You always have my help.”

“I know. I just also know that Gene wouldn’t be quick to pick up the phone for it.”

“Very true,” Annie concurred.

“Please, could you also…you know…keep him company?”

Annie leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Gene, her hands resting on his chest. She put her nose in his hair and sighed. “He looked much better today,” she said. “No more headaches. And the X-rays were normal.”

Gene grinned and ran a finger along her forearm. He already had known Sam’s status for the day, as he and Ruthie had called him when they got home that evening. However, he also knew that Annie was trying to make him feel better. He reckoned he wasn’t putting on a very convincing air of nonchalance.

“Thank you, Annie,” he muttered.

She pulled away from him as she heard footfalls coming down the stairs. They both turned to see Ruthie, holding Bertram who was in his pajamas now.

Gene smiled at her. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Papa, it’s story time,” she reminded him.

“Oh, yes!” he exclaimed, as if he was just remembering when story time was. “Of course it is. Would you like a glass of warm milk?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll make it for her,” Annie said, as Gene rose from his chair. “You start the story.”

Gene watched her as she went in to the kitchen and then looked down at his little girl. “What’s it to be, then? Shall we see what Ratty and Mole are up to now?”

“Can we read _Peter Rabbit_ , please?” Ruthie asked as they walked up the stairs together.

“Sure. You know, I’ve never read it before,” Gene said, sarcastically as Ruthie laughed again.


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam comes home from the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter Rabbit is a character in a series of stories by Beatrix Potter.
> 
> Therefore, I do not own any part of the series of stories nor do I own the canon Life on Mars characters.

Ruthie snuggled up against Annie who was stroking her sleepy head as Gene concluded story time. “I am sorry to say that Peter,” he read, “was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed, and made some chamomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter! ‘One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time,’” he recited in a stern, motherly voice, making the girls giggle.

“But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper. The End.” Gene closed the book. “Time for sleep, Mouse,” he whispered to Ruthie.

She yawned and rubbed one of her eyes. “One more, please,” she whimpered.

“No time for another one, baby,” Gene told her. “It’s getting late and you’re almost asleep.”

Annie helped lay her down, kneeling on the floor by her bedside. “I hope you have wonderful dreams, darling,” she said and leaned down, kissing her forehead. Ruthie held Bertram up to her and Annie gave him a big kiss on the end of his nose. “Night night, love” she said, stroking her warm cheek. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Ruthie replied.

Annie smiled at her once more before moving over to allow Gene to kiss her goodnight.

“Did you have fun with Annie tonight?” Gene asked her.

Ruthie nodded. “Uh huh,” she said.

“She brought us yummy food, didn’t she?”

“Oh, yes. It was so good. I had two helpings!”

“You certainly did,” Gene smiled.

“I was very hungry.”

“Well, you are getting to be a big girl,” he informed, “and big girls need their strength, don’t they?”

“Uh huh. And she made Bertram all better, too.”

“Oh yeah, good as new,” Gene said, scratching behind the lion’s stuffed ear. “Hey. Have you got any night-night kisses for me?”

Ruthie smiled as she put her small hands on his cheeks and he leaned in she could kiss both of them. He giggled as he kissed her cheeks, too.

“Papa?”

“Yes, my love?”

“May I have a song, please?”

Gene smirked. “It’s late, Mousey-girl. You need to rest.”

“But, Papa, please?” she begged. “I want a song.”

He glanced over at Annie. “You want Annie to sing to you?”

Ruthie nodded, her eyes already drooping.

Annie approached the bed once more and knelt down. “Let’s see,” she said, putting a finger to her chin in thought. “I know. I’ll sing you a bit of a lullaby me mam used to sing to me.” She cleared her throat and placed her hand on Ruthie’s shoulder.

 _Sleep my child and peace attend thee,_ __  
All through the night  
Guardian angels God will send thee,  
All through the night  
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,  
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping  
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,  
All through the night

Gene’s breath hitched slightly, but he bit his lip and gazed at them in the dim lamp light. Annie was stroking Ruthie’s temple now as the girl’s eyes fluttered shut.

He knew the lullaby well; it was one his mother always sang to him when he couldn’t sleep, and he had not heard it in a long time.

He quietly rose from the floor and flicked off the bedside lamp as Annie continued to sing.

 _Angels watching ever round thee_ __  
All through the night  
In thy slumbers close surround thee  
All through the night  
They will of all fears disarm thee,  
No forebodings should alarm thee,  
They will let no peril harm thee  
All through the night.

Annie stopped singing and listened to the soft breathing of Ruthie,  who was now sound asleep, her bottom lip pouting as she clutched her lion.

“Good night, darling,” she whispered before she stood.

Gene leaned in and kissed Ruthie’s temple. “Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

They stepped into the corridor, Gene closing Ruthie’s bedroom door behind him. He heard Annie sniff and turned to her just as she was wiping her eyes. Gene approached her. “That was lovely,” he said. “My, uh…my mother used to sing that, too.”

Annie sniffed again. “I think all English mothers do.”

“Now, you do,” Gene grinned.

Her lip quivered as she looked up at him. She wiped her eyes again. “Oh, God, look at me. I’m sorry.”

He noticed a tear escape from her and roll down her cheek. “What’s the matter?” he asked in a gentle tone.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “It just…feels good to do that for her, you know? That she might remember later on. Just being around her always brings me joy. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

“That it is,” Gene said, briefly thinking back on the day of her birth, when he held his daughter for the first time. She was so small, yet so powerful to him. It was a wonder he could still stand that day.

“Last night was a gloomy night for the both of us,” he told her. “She didn’t want to read, didn’t want a song…not even telly could cheer her up. But, I know she enjoyed you being here.”

Annie smiled and nodded. “Me too.”

He moved closer to her, saying, “You _have_ made it feel like Sam is home.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“Because, like him, you bloody cry at the drop of a hat.”

Annie laughed and looked up at him. “Guv,” Annie giggled, playfully slapping his arm. She wiped her eyes again and moved away from him. “Come on, then. That paperwork’s not going to finish itself.”

She felt his hand gently grasp her wrist. Annie looked into his eyes as he walked backwards toward the master bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Miracles do happen.”

She bit her bottom lip and let him lead her.

Gene’s shirt was peeled off of him shortly after the bedroom door closed. He growled as he pressed his lips against Annie’s lips, making her clutch at his arms. He pressed her body against him to keep her upright as she melted into him.

He walked her backwards toward the bed where the edge of it met the backs of her knees and she fell onto her back with a heavy sigh. He moved over her and began kissing her neck, kneading his tongue against her skin as he nipped with his teeth. Her breathing became ragged and heavy as his lips moved down to her clavicles and shoulders. He lifted himself and unbuttoned her blouse and when it opened, he pressed his hungry mouth onto the upper curve of one of her breasts.

“Gene…” Annie whispered and felt his hand glide under her and up her back, unhooking her brassiere with a fluid motion. She giggled as she shrugged off her blouse, Gene pulling her bra away from her and instantly taking her left nipple into his mouth.

She gasped loudly, making him stop to look at her with a cautious grin. “Remember, these walls are thin,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed quietly as he took her nipple again, lightly licking it with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, Guv.” She arched her back as he sucked her harder, making her fingers grip at his hair.

He sucked again as he pulled away with a satisfied smacking noise from his lips. He peered at her from under his long lashes as he moved to her other nipple, and he swiped his tongue across it. The hand under Annie now had hold of the back of her neck, while the other hand was lifting her skirt higher.

Fingertips traced along her inner thigh and soon were caressing the crotch of her satin knickers. She whimpered as the fingers found their way underneath the fabric, and two of them began to massage her clitoris.

She swayed her hips against his fingers as he continued to tease her nipple. He emitted a pleased growl as he dipped his middle finger lower and eased it inside her, making her inhale sharply.

He lifted his head from her chest and looked at her, her head tilted back with her eyes barely shut. Her lips were full as her mouth opened and moaned, and her cheeks were adopting a pink flush about them as he began to pump his finger into her.

Gene leaned into her, lips pressed against her ear. “Is this for me?” he whispered to her. “Hm? Is it?” He nipped at her ear lobe. “It must be. You clearly want me to take it, how wet you are.”

“Yes…”Annie sighed as he slipped his finger out of her and forced her knickers down from her hips. She kicked herself out of them, letting them fall to the floor as Gene settled on his side, facing her, allowing her leg to rest over his. Her arm was around his neck, and her fingers found their way into his now messy hair.

He lifted her skirt higher to rest on her hips. She moved her other leg away, spreading for him and he caught a glimpse of her dark pubic hair and a flash of pink as her free hand pulled back her lips. “Jesus…” he moaned as he shoved two fingers into her.

She squeaked and her hand dropped from his hair to his shoulder where she grabbed hold of the fabric of his vest. His fingers filled her as they pumped harder into her, and he looked at her, biting his lip as he watched her expression.

“You like being played with,” he whispered.

Her reply was caught behind a moan that she was suppressing so as not to make a sound. Annie did like to be handled like this, and Gene knew and always relished in it.

She remembered her first time with the three of them. They had been only slightly drunk, and the subject of threesomes came up, which then led to Sam being the cheeky sod that he is and suggesting they just “bloody go for it.” She had no objections; she and Sam had had plenty of sex before he and Gene were a couple, and she had to admit that there were some late nights in her bed where she would imagine Gene as a lover.

That first time, much of their foreplay was seeing how many times they could make Annie to cum, and there was much fingering and licking and sucking of her to last her many nights. She couldn’t believe just how much she did enjoy having her muff assaulted like that, but she eventually had enough, stopping them when she realized it was becoming a competition.

“Oh, God, Gene, yes,” she managed to reply.

This was the first time, though, that it was just her and Gene. They hadn’t made love since before Ruthie, and Sam was always in the room with them. She knew he enjoyed watching them, and he would sometimes join in or Annie would watch the both of them. It was different tonight, however, and it was baffling to her how guilty she began to feel.

Shit, she thought to herself.

“Guv, wait…stop,” she whispered.

He ceased his fingers and licked his lips. “Am I hurting you?”

Annie shook her head and sighed. “No, it feels very nice.” She moved her hand from his shoulder and stroked his hair. “It just…feels odd tonight.”

He removed his fingers from her and rested his hand on her hip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I don’t know why.” She looked away from him and saw the armchair in the corner.

Gene glanced in that direction, as well, and let out a throaty giggle. “Is it because my husband isn’t sitting there, polishing his todger while he watches?”

Annie covered her eyes, embarrassed as she smiled and groaned. “I know; it’s ridiculous.”

“No, I get it,” Gene said as he pulled her skirt down to cover her naked hips.

“Oh, no, Guv, I’m so sorry,” Annie told him.

“Why are you sorry?” he grinned.

She smirked at him. “I mean, I know you wanted to—“.”

Gene shrugged. “I’ll live.”

“But…what about…?” she nudged slightly against his crotch only to find that he was barely hard.

“Oh, don’t worry about him, love,” Gene assured her. “He’s retired for the evening. Honestly, I just… wanted to thank you properly.”

Annie’s heart fluttered at this and she stroked his temple. She had earlier sensed his exhaustion, but seeing him now in the dim light of the bedroom, Gene looked absolutely shattered. His face was pallid and the whites of his eyes irritated and red, as if he hadn’t slept in days. “You look a bit peaky.”

He sighed and laid his head on her chest, letting her stroke his hair. He relaxed under her gentle touch for a moment before replying, “Sam told me about a dream he had that first night in hospital,” he muttered. “How in it he…” He paused to clear his throat. “In it, he died. That the bullet had gone into his head. And that Ruthie and I were alone. I guess it’s got me thinking about the worst that could happen…to either of us.” He squeezed her hip. “Been on my mind.”

Her heart skipped at the thought of losing Sam, and of Gene. She thought of Ruthie and the grief that would plague her as she grew up, and she inhaled deeply to push back tears again.

“Neither of you would be alone,” she said. “You know that, right?”

She felt Gene’s head nod. “Yeah,” he whispered.

They lay there a few moments longer. Gene pressed his cheek into Annie’s warm chest as she continued to caress his head, their breathing soon becoming in sync.

Annie lifted her head and glanced at the clock. “I should be going, Guv.”

Gene raised his head, as well, saying, “Stay.”

She looked at him. “I don’t have all my things with me.”

“I’ll call for a cab early in the morning,” he assured her. “You can be a bit late for work; I’ll allow it…this time.”

They both smiled. “I shan’t make a habit of it,” Annie said.

He gave her a quick nod as she rose from the bed to go into their lavatory.

The next morning came a bit too quickly as Gene had had another restless sleep. Annie had slept peacefully in Gene’s green collared shirt, and although it had felt nice to curl up next to a warm body in a bed that had been cold for a few nights, Gene rose from the bed at three in the morning to make a cup of tea and continue his paperwork. Annie awoke a half hour later to find herself alone in bed, so she got up and dressed herself before going downstairs where she found Gene at the roll-top desk, scribbling away.

He called a cab for her and they sat in the lounge, waiting. “Thank you for dinner,” he told her, “and, uh…for helping out.”

She smiled. “It’s no trouble, Guv? In fact, how about, after Sam gets back,” she said, “I keep Ruthie one weekend? So you can spend some time with him, yeah? Maybe even sleep a bit?”

“Easy, Cartwright. I already have a mother.”

“And a Sam,” she quipped.

His grin grew bigger and they both started when they heard the taxi’s horn outside. “Right,” he said. “Got everything?”

“Yeah,” she said, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t skimp on the files, now.”

“Not to worry,” Gene said, opening the door for her. “I’ll let Sam finish them. Give him something to do while he whines about having to stay home.”

She quickly kissed him and he watched her get into the taxi. They waved at one another as the car drove away.

Gene got the call at the station from Sam later in the day. He was being released a day early and could come home that night. Gene couldn’t help but smile brightly at the unexpected relief that swelled in him at that moment. “Yeah?” he asked a bit too loudly, and then cleared his throat. “About bloody time, if you ask me.”

Sam had caught him trying to hide his true feelings of this bit of good news, but didn’t mention it.

When he arrived at Ruthie’s preschool and helped her into her car seat, he buckled her up and smiled. “Guess what.”

“What?” Ruthie asked, seeing the happy look on her papa’s face.

“We’re going to get Daddy.”

Ruthie gasped. “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s coming home.”

“Right now?”

Gene laughed. “Yes, love! We’re going now!”

Ruthie could only squeal with delight, a squeal that repeated itself when they entered the waiting room and saw Sam signing his release papers.

He was leaning against the nurse station counter, a duffle bag at his feet and a metal hospital-issued cane leaning against his leg. Sam was dressed in a pair of grey joggers and a thin olive green jumper. He heard the squeal and smiled when he saw the source. “There’s my girl!” he exclaimed as he carefully squatted down the catch her hug.

“Ruthie, love, take it easy,” came Gene’s voice behind her.

“She’s fine,” he promised, “just fine. So happy to see you, baby girl!”

“Can we take you home now?” she exclaimed, making the nurses at the station croon in awe over his eager daughter.

After all the papers were signed, Sam walked out of the hospital with Ruthie holding his hand while he used the help of his cane with the other. Gene walked behind them and couldn’t resist smiling.

“Daddy, are you going to keep the cane?” Ruthie asked as Sam opened her car door.

“Only for a little while, sweetheart,” he replied. “It’s just to help Daddy get around for now.”

He was about to stoop over to click her car seat belt, but she surprised him by doing it herself. “Well, look at you,” he said. “Did you grow up while I was gone?”

“No!” Ruthie declared. “I wanted to show you I know how to do it.”

“I guess that’s not my job anymore, then?” Sam asked, smiling.

“Yes, it is!” Ruthie said as she quickly unbuckled it.

“You silly goose,” he said, buckling the belt again.

After Sam carefully slid into the passenger seat next to Gene, he looked at his DCI and sighed. “What a relief to get out of there.”

“Yeah?” Gene said. “Could have fooled me. I thought you liked hospitals, all the times I’ve had to take you to one.”

Sam smirked and shook his head. “Believe me, I don’t. Besides, I could do with some real food.”

“There’s some leftover lamb and rice at home.”

“Where did that come from?”

“Oh, please,” Gene sneered, “You know damn well it’s from your plod. It was you that sent her over to keep me company and all.”

“And did she?” Sam grinned.

Gene looked at him and pursed his lips as he started the car. “How come you’ve never made lamb and rice?”

“What?” Sam laughed.

“You claim we can’t afford it on our combined salaries, but Cartwright’s doing just fine.” He put the car into gear and began to drive it out of the car park to the street. “What is it then?”

Sam huffed. “Do you really want to know the truth, Guv?” Gene only glanced at him for an answer. “I don’t really care for lamb.”

Gene stopped at a stop sign and looked at Sam with wide eyes. “Are you _sure_ you’re English?” he demanded.

A giggle came from the backseat and Sam saw that Ruthie had been listening the whole time.

Gene looked into the rearview mirror at her. “You like lamb, don’t you, baby?”

Ruthie bounced her head up and down. “Yep, yep!”

“Course you do, love!” Gene said, proudly.

“I had two helpings last night!”

“You hear that? Two helpings! Because that’s pure English in your veins, innit?”

“Yep, yep!” Ruthie repeated.

Sam gave him a sly grin as he carefully turned to face Ruthie, placing his arm over the back of his seat. “Baby, you like football, yeah?”

“What a question!” Gene replied first.

“I do, Daddy!” Ruthie agreed.

“Well, then let me tell you about Manchester United.”

“I will kick you into traffic, Tyler,” Gene warned.

“Who’s that?” Ruthie asked.

Sam feigned shock. “Only the greatest team in the league!”

“Tyler, shut up! Ruthie, love, don’t listen to Daddy. He knows shite about football,” Gene explained.

“Guv, language!” Sam said. “And please, drive! I would like to make it home in one piece.”

They were quiet for a while on the drive home, the radio playing softly. Sam looked out the window and grinned. He was going home, back to his haven with the ones he loved. He glanced at Gene who quickly returned his gaze and raised his eyebrows, playfully.

Sam turned back to look out the window and closed his eyes as he felt a gloved hand slide over his knuckles and caress him. Sam grinned and moaned softly as the glove took hold of his hand.

The silence was broken then by Gene.

“Oi, Mouse,” he said.

“Yeah, Papa?”

“Red or blue?”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Blue!”

“That’s my girl!”


End file.
